it comes in Threes
by Kuro49
Summary: Peter/Neal. There was once a Chinese curse.


This is only because I really want to write a conversation-driven piece, totally not because they just like to talk a lot. And because I find fics where Peter and Neal initiate a relationship without the anklet incredibly romantic, yes I also have no idea what romance really is.

Note, the whole Chinese curse thing is from Bottlenecked, S01E12.

XXX

**it comes in Threes**

XXX

I. _May you live in interesting times._

"And are you sure," Mozzie is drinking wine, and isn't he always. Staring easily into the dark red as he swirls it gently in the glass, "he doesn't hate you for complicating his life?"

"Would you?" Neal asks in reply, giving nothing away, not even to the New York night outside.

"I can't say, I've never tried to get into the mind of a Fed this way."

"Try now."

"…I don't think I can."

"Moz."

They both make a face, something like do I have to, something like I thought you were my friend.

Mozzie takes a breath, and inhales another gulp of wine. "You're his consultant, his CI, C for _criminal_ might I remind you."

"And your point?"

"Neal, either he is waiting until your four years is up or…"

"Or what?"

Neal feels enough sympathy for the other to pour him another full cup before they continue.

"Or you've got a dangerous case of Stockholm for… the Suit."

"You think I have a thing for Peter?"

"If it isn't Stockholm syndrome, then I really don't know what it could be."

"True love?" Neal shrugs as he takes a seat, hand reaching out for a glass but Mozzie gives him one of those looks, a don't play me, we know each other too long for any of that to work and pushes the rest of the bottle at him.

"Don't play dumb, you can't pull it off."

"And I thought the pretty face adds to that."

But the smile doesn't really get him out of this one. He takes a swig straight from the bottle and there is none of his usual class but it's all a little late for any of that at this point.

They both look down at the anklet, and the green light that is staring back up at them.

"Neal, I don't like it either way."

"Tell me about it, Moz."

II. _May you find what you are looking for._

They are sitting in Peter's car, right outside of June's brownstone.

"Peter."

His fingers tap a dangerous tune into the armrest. And as subtle as he tries, Peter's alarms are all going off in disarray.

"Yes, Neal…?"

"I think we need to talk."

"If this is about increasing your radius, you can forget about it."

"I am giving that another angle." He lowers his head, eyes nearly fluttering shut when he considers his options one last time.

"…Are you going to need immunity for this?"

"I hope it won't come to that."

But like a prisoner up for execution, he has hoped none of it would come to this. And yet, here they are.

"Neal."

Neal shifts in his seat, uncomfortable even when he has promised himself to do this right.

"But just so you know, I honestly have no idea how you'll feel about this."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?"

"Take it as a warning."

"I take everything you do as a blazing red warning."

"That sounds almost sweet."

"Get to it, Neal, I want to go home."

Neal sucks in a breath, lets it out in a rush, along with the words running him ragged.

"I want you."

"…to what? Increase your radius? Bring you to that exhibit at the Met that you aren't ever going alone on my watch?"

And as difficult as it is to admit, Peter can't read minds and Neal isn't as obvious as he likes.

"No, Peter." He wants to turn his head to look at him. He wants him to understand that this isn't easy, not even for the great Neal Caffrey because Neal wants nothing more than to get out of this car and never look back. Yet, here he is, pushing himself forward, he wants to try to make this so it isn't about him. "I want you, period. The end."

"…I don't think I understand."

"I…" He breathes in, breathes out, allows his heart to settle down before he continues, "I think you do, Peter."

"I'm married."

"The ring makes it obvious, El makes it even more so."

"Then what'd you have me do…?"

The streets are quiet and he's his hero in every way. Neal closes his eyes against the dark and wills the weight over his heart to go away. It doesn't work as efficient as he wants it to.

"Does that make me a bad person?"

"Liking someone—"

"Loving someone," Neal corrects, "and wanting them this much. Kate, she is dead, it took awhile for me to accept that but I know that feeling. That feeling of pure need when I chased after her. That feeling, it made me turn around… when I should've been on that plane."

"…I can't—"

"Just… don't put me back in jail."

"No—" Peter turns his head sharply at him, disbelief burning low and warm in his voice. "What? I would never, Neal. Not for _this_."

"Then, we'll be fine." Neal tries to smile and fails by a mile. "Just pretend I never said anything."

His hand fumbles with the lock, just as Peter wraps his fingers around his bicep, holding him still. Neal doesn't move.

"Don't give me the wrong idea, Peter."

It is a warning on both part, a soft don't make me hope this can go on further than it already has.

"I can't promise you anything, but." Neal holds his breath. "It won't be now even if—"

Neal turns his head in the dark, eyes painfully blue that catches Peter off guard when he kisses him, body surging forward in the cramp space. There is none of the finesse, the control or even the skills of a long time romantic.

There is only desperation and a dream long given up for the best.

The seatbelt buckle is digging into his hips but his hand finds Peter's face, fingertips brushing up against the stubbles along his jaw. His mouth is hot, and there is yearning if not everything he has ever felt for Peter.

"It's the anklet."

Neal tells him in a rush, knows his _if_ to be a _when_, and there is a small, almost bashful, smile on his lips even when Peter ducks away. Embarrassment and hard held belief clear in his eyes.

"That, and many _many_ other things, Neal."

The man has his heart beating frantic in his chest. There is nothing that he can deny at this point. Neal likes that he doesn't have to lie.

"Peter, you don't have to look at me like I'm going to attack you in the next second."

"Can you blame me?"

"Peter, four more years."

He pushes the car door out into the night, eyes hidden when he gets out.

But the smile is prominent, it always is. And it is a promise as much as it is tangible hope.

"And then I'll make you mine's. I'll make you regret that you never did a thing about it in the four years you owned me."

III. _May you come to the attention of those in authority._

"Wait," four years later, it is Peter who hands him the key to the tracking anklet. But the breaking of this bond is one he gets to make himself, "Moz warned me it might be Stockholm. Let me see whether I still want to romance you out of your clothes without it."

The light blinks red.

And he is a free man.

Neal grins up at the glare, softening as they speak.

"False alarm, I still want you."

"I talked to El."

He looks uncomfortable but he has looked that way even before the anklet came off. It is Peter's default, a Pavlovian conditioning that Neal has engrained in him. And Neal is almost happy, if it isn't for Peter's obvious belief that he will run.

But he hasn't yet. And that, it has to count for something.

"You had four years, you had better talked to her."

Neal tries a smile, Peter gives him a scowl.

"If you were anyone else, El says she would've ruined your life for trying."

"No, that's you, Peter. El would have found someone better."

"Neal. Don't estimate my wife's dedication."

"Got it, Peter. I'll keep my opinions to myself."

"El said," he takes a breath like he himself still can't believe it, "she would let it go if it was you."

"So you're going polyamorous?"

"If only to keep you out of trouble."

"That sounds real generous of you, sacrificing yourself for the good of the public."

"But Neal, do you really, still…?"

And even if Neal does enjoy seeing that tortured look on Peter, he is kind enough for one day to cut him some slack, if only because he has wanted this for so long.

If only because this is a curse he is not willing to break.

"I still want you, Peter."

Neal ducks behind his trilby.

"And now, I am going to kiss you as a free man with a free will to do whatever he pleases."

And that is as much of a warning as Peter gets when Neal kisses him in the office, glass walls and all.

XXX Kuro

I still hate you, ff.n, for cutting out my linebreaks.


End file.
